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Love, as matter, cannot be created, nor destroyed. We were born in it, sometimes unfulfilled, but never without it. Filled to the edge of our souls with love, we spend our whole lives trying to pour it out into someone who loved a little too much, a little too late, too much for some, and now is left a little emptier than before. Or someone, who loved a little less. Or someone, who isn’t ready to be whole. Love is like matter. Although one cannot create it or destroy it, sometimes it can destroy us. And in other definitions, love creates us, elaborates and builds us from fragments of our…

Those deep dark eyes break the illusions of my arrogance. Your penetrating gaze, hard and sharp as flint; pierces my soul and breaks my conscience. Leave me bleeding at the altars of your recklessness. Your love is the antidote to the scratches and scars on my soul, because I fell before cumulative attacks of your eyes. Am I to hold my hand toward eternity or let myself fall into the dungeons of eternal damnation? It’s your privilege to decide. Let me think in the wretchedness of this night which my soul desperately despises. Why? Did I let you reach to the core of my existence? To enter with a forbidden…

She manipulated you, little boy. She seduced you with what you didn’t have, seduced you with words and fun facts. You were silent, listening, enjoying her presence. She laughed about that, she loved your insecurities. She made you not knowing who you were but knowing that you belong to her. You accepted everything she explained to you for days and everything she taught you at night. You become deviating, divided into different personalities. You lost the essence of everything, you were subordinate and loyal to her. Little boy, it’s pure deception. The real problems start when you realize and see at what you were looking with eyes wide open, but…